Miss Brighton
by MelodysMom
Summary: It's an epic - crazy long fic with an OFC. Way AU as well, but hey - it's fic so it's all good, right?
1. Chapter 1

Title: "Miss Brighton"  
Disclaimers: Not mine. (Except for any characters you don't  
recognize they're all mine and I'm proud of them, damn it!)  
Rating: It's an epic with NC-17 eventually hang in there!  
Feedback: GREATLY APPRECIATED! It's the only form of payment I get!  
Author's Notes: Thanks to a whole whack of people for their input on  
this story. Christina, Laura, Beth, Norma the freak beta, just to  
everybody. There I'm covered.  
Archive: Please feel free. Just let me know so I can visit.

"Toby!"  
"What?"  
"Well, can you come here so I don't have to yell?"  
He walks into my office and speaks in an exasperated tone.  
"What?"  
"I can't do this."  
"You can't do what?"  
"This… this… this thing."  
"The teacher thing?"  
"Yeah. If I've interviewed one person, I've interviewed 500, and I can't even remember who those people were."  
"Well, you proposed it to the President, and he gave the ok. So you have to do it, now."  
"Toby. Can't you get me out of this?"  
"Sign it over to Josh for all I care. All I know is that it'd better get done."  
"You're a big help."  
"Whatever. Staff's in twenty."  
"Yeah."  
He leaves, and I return to the file folder mountain which is overtaking my desk. There's a knock on my door.  
"Yeah?"  
The door opens, and in steps Ginger.  
"Hey, Sam. Just giving you your mail."  
I look up at her.  
"Thanks. Hey, you don't want to do this, do you?"  
She laughs right out loud.  
"Not if your life depended on it. Good luck."  
I smile.  
"Thanks."  
Maybe I just need a break for a bit. That's it. I'll get focused on this mess after I read my mail. Hmmm. Doesn't seem to be anything interesting here today. Letter from Senator Lobell, God I don't want to read that one. Letter from my Mom. Why did she mail that here? I'll read that at home. Wait a second. What's this? I curiously eye the envelope which is simply addressed to `Mr. Sam Seaborn, The  
White House'. There's a return address on it, but I can't quite make it out. The writing's pretty messy. I put down my other letters and open the envelope. I skim over it quickly, then immediately pick up my phone.  
"Hey Josh. I need you, right now."

"Wow. That's pretty amazing."  
"Yeah. I think this is the one. Don't you?"  
"They sound pretty good. You should go out and meet him; see what he's all about."  
"That's a good idea. I'll leave tonight, and plan a surprise visit for tomorrow. This is great. I didn't think I would find the one, but I think the contents of this envelope has made me find it. Thanks, buddy."  
"Hey. Anytime."  
He leaves my office, and I pick up my phone.  
"Hey, Ginger. I need you to book a hotel for me. I'm going to be gone for the night, and I have to have a place to stay. Yeah, I guess that would help, wouldn't it? I'm going to be in Baltimore, and I don't want to have to drive home late at night. Ok? Thanks. Yeah, I'll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon. Ok. Bye."

TBC...

********************  
I smack my arm on the alarm clock beside my bed, not yet being fully conscious. I rub my eyes, trying to adjust myself to my surroundings. Oh yeah. I'm not at home, am I? I'm in a hotel in Baltimore. I get out of bed, plug in the coffee machine, and head into the shower. After a shower and a cup or two of coffee, I'll feel much better. My phone rings just as I'm about to step my foot inside the bathroom.  
"Hello?"  
"Hey, buddy."  
"Josh? What do you need?"  
"Well, I was just wondering how things went?"  
"Nothing's happened yet, Josh. I'm going there today, remember?"  
"Oh yeah. That's right. Well, good luck, buddy."  
"Thanks. Listen, as much as I'd love to finish this conversation, my shower's getting cold, and my coffee is almost ready."  
"'K. Take it easy."  
"'K. I'll call you when I find something out."  
"Bye."  
"Bye."

I'm in my car driving down the road to the school where this person teaches. I follow the directions given me by Ginger, and they're very accurate. I guess she doesn't trust my sense of direction at all but I can't blame her. Ever since the Senator Mendosa fiasco, well… the less said the better. I see the school up ahead on my left, and put on my signal to turn into the parking lot. I pull up into the `Visitor's Only' space, shut off the car, grab my briefcase and head inside; searching for the main office. I find it, and head to the desk, where a friendly secretary greets me.  
"Good morning. May I help you?"  
"Yes. I'm looking for a teacher."  
She gives me a smile and a little chuckle.  
"Well, you've come to the right place, Sir."  
I smile.  
"You've got me there. Anyway, my name is Sam Seaborn. I'm from Washington, well, actually New York. Well, actually California."  
"Do you need a Geography teacher, Sir?"  
I smile.  
"No. It's, see, I work in Washington. At the White House."  
She gets a look on her face as though she's just had an epiphany.  
"OHHH! Mr. Seaborn. Someone told me that you may call, but I didn't think that you'd drive all the way here."  
"Well, I spent the night in a hotel, and I'm driving back this afternoon. I'm here to see Mr. Brighton."  
"MR. Brighton? I'm sorry, you must have the wrong school. We don't have a Mr. Brighton teaching here."  
I put my briefcase on the counter, and take out my file as I speak.  
"Are you sure? Isn't this P.S. 34?"  
"Well, yes, Sir. We are P.S. 34. But I can assure you, we don't have a Mr. Brighton teaching here."  
I knew it. It was a fake letter. I put my files back in my briefcase, and smile at her.  
"Well, I'm sorry to have bothered you. Have a good day."  
I'm just about to leave the office when she calls me back.  
"Mr. Seaborn?"  
I turn.  
"Yes."  
"Would you like to speak to MISS Brighton?"  
Maybe. Maybe I do.  
"She's an English, Fine Arts and Social Studies teacher? Grades 3 and 4?"  
She nods her head.  
"Yes. Something tells me that the writing on your file got smudged, Sir."  
"Yeah. That's entirely possible, seeing as I spill coffee. A lot."  
She smiles, as if she understands.  
"Her room is up the stairs, second floor, room 205."  
I smile a gracious smile at her.  
"Thank you so much."

As I approach the second floor, I hear the voice of Josh Groban coming from one of the rooms. He's that new singer that the President was telling me about when we were talking about the NEA. I went out and bought the CD and had a listen to it at his request, so I know this is who is singing. I walk down the hall, and reach room  
205; the music is definitely coming from in there. I knock on the door, and there's no response. I knock a little louder, and I suddenly see a figure in front of the door. She's about 5 foot 7, with short dark hair and, what from here looks like green eyes. She opens the door with a smile.  
"Hello."  
She has a very quiet voice.  
"Hi."  
"May I help you?"  
"Uh… yes. I was wondering if you would… I mean… I was wondering if you were… oh hell."  
She smiles and shakes her head at me.  
"Let's try this again, shall we?"  
She holds out her right hand, and I accept it with mine.  
"Hi. I'm Jennifer Brighton."  
I smile, and shake her hand.  
"Hi. I'm Samuel Seaborn. My friends call me Sam."  
"Well, it's nice to meet you. What can I do for you?"  
"Well, I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes, if I could."  
"Ok. Please, come in."  
She opens the door for me, and I step inside her classroom. It's standard; desks, chalkboards with notes and daily schedules written on them, books piled up in the bookcases along the walls. There's one difference from other classrooms that I've been in this month though; there's color everywhere. Art is hung from the ceiling,  
which I can only assume has been painted by her students. There's a large fish tank at the back, with goldfish swimming around happily. Reminds me of C.J.'s fish, Gail. Wouldn't she love to live in that tank! There are stuffed animals that are lining the bottom of her desk, most likely given to her by her students, and picture frames accent the top of her desk. She turns down the volume on the stereo so we can speak.  
"I know, our room is a little cluttered. We weren't expecting visitors. If I had known, I would've cleaned up a bit and…"  
"Oh, it's a beautiful room. The art work is really colorful."  
"Yeah. They did a fantastic job on those, didn't they?"  
She smiles, obviously out of pride in her students.  
"Tell me about the pictures."  
"That's a very diplomatic way to ask what the pictures are, Mr. Seaborn."  
"Please, it's Sam."  
"Ok. Sam."  
We exchange smiles, then she continues.  
"Well, we're currently studying the Constitution in Social Studies. It's a great thing for the kids to learn about, and they're having such a great amount of fun with it, that I thought it would be good to incorporate what they're learning about it with their different classes. We had Art class yesterday, and I told them we were going  
to be painting, drawing, whatever they chose to use as their medium. I told them that we were going to be creating pictures of what they thought it was like back when the Constitution was written. Some of these are quite accurate, albeit a little child like."  
I smile.  
"Regardless, they're quite fascinating. They really are incredible."  
"Yeah. They're my kids."  
We stand in the center of the classroom for a couple of awkward moments, then she speaks.  
"What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"  
"Well, I actually am from Washington."  
She gets a nervous look on her face.  
"This isn't about my tax return last year, is it? I mean, I know that a couple of the things that I put on my forms might not seem like necessities to you, but…"  
I start to laugh and hold up my hand to make her stop.  
"I don't see what's so funny. You're going to give me an audit, and you're laughing at me."  
"No, no, no. This isn't about your taxes. Although, if you put that fish food on there as a business expense, you should reconsider for next year. No, this is about something completely different. I'm from Washington, as I said. I don't know if you were aware of this, but there's a campaign that's underway right now, and the President is most interested in it. He's always regarded education as one of his top priorities on his agenda, and he's asked me to make a few visits, do a few interviews with…"  
She looks stunned.  
"You know the President?"  
"Yes I do. My office is one hundred and six of my feet from the Oval Office."  
She has a blank expression on her face; I think she's in shock.  
"It's ok, you know. You don't have to be afraid of…"  
"It's not that. It's just… You REALLY work that close to the President?"  
"Every day, including weekends and summer holidays."  
"You've been on Air Force One?"  
"On more than one occasion, actually."  
She gets a pensive look on her face.  
"Where you, you know. There?"  
I nod my head as a somber mood has hit the room.  
"Yeah. I was."  
"Is he ok now?"  
I smile. That's very sweet of her to ask.  
"Yes. He's back in the saddle, better than ever."  
She puts a hand to her chest and breathes a sigh of relief.  
"That's so good to know. Are you ok? Did you… you know."  
"No, I didn't, thank God. But my best friend Josh was. He's doing much better now. He's up and running us all ragged again."  
She smiles.  
"Good. I'm so glad to hear that. I was worried when I saw it on the news, and I just hoped and prayed that everyone was alright."  
"Well, we made it through. We're doing just fine."  
"Good. I'm relieved."  
"Ok. Can we skip onto something more pleasant?"  
She smiles.  
"Sure. What did you have in mind?"  
"Well, as I mentioned, the President is big on Education."  
"One of the main reasons I voted for him."  
She's a Democrat. This woman keeps getting better and better.  
"Glad to know you're with us. Anyway, he wanted me to head up a team that would look into the best teachers from the states, and gather them together and honor them for their efforts."  
"Ok. So why is it you're here? Do you want to know about Mr. Johnson? He's a great man. He'd be a good candidate for you."  
I put my briefcase down on one of the desktops.  
"Actually, I'm here to talk about you."  
She seems taken aback by this.  
"I honestly don't know why. This is my job, and I love doing it. That should be reward in itself, shouldn't it?"  
"Yes, I agree with you on that. But we have a letter here from a  
student that says you are without doubt the… quote… coolest teacher on earth. Unquote."  
She laughs.  
"That HAS to be Dianna."  
I look at the bottom of the sheet.  
"Yes, actually. It is from Dianna. How old is she?"  
"She's going to be nine in about 5 weeks. That reminds me."  
She goes over to her desk and pulls out a daytimer.  
"If I don't write it down now, I'll forget."  
"You'll forget her birthday?"  
"Oh no, I'd never forget that. I have to remember to order the cake three days before her birthday."  
"You're getting a cake for her birthday?"  
"I do for all the kids' birthdays. Before you ask, the kids that have a birthday in the summer aren't forgotten either. We turn the last day of school into a huge `end of school/birthday' party with all their names written on the cake, so no one feels left out. It's my standard policy to make everyone feel included, not excluded."  
I smile.  
"That's a great policy to have."  
She finishes writing in her book as we talk.  
"Yeah. It's the basis for everything I do. Makes everyone feel as though they're equals, because in the end, we all are."  
"Very true."  
"It is. So how can I help you?"  
She puts down her pen and gives me her undivided attention.  
"Well, I was hoping you'd let me sit in on the first part of the class today, so I can see you in action. I'd just be in the back, minding my own business. But, if it's a bother, that's ok."  
"No! It'd be great to have you here. You could get involved in the class if you'd like. We're having Social Studies first this morning anyway, and if you'd like to talk about life in the White House, I'd be more than pleased to have you speak to us!"  
I smile. Who da man?  
"Sure. I hadn't planned on it, but what the heck."  
Suddenly the loud buzzer sounds, and there is a loud noise coming up the stairs.  
"You'd better watch out, that door's gonna come flying open in about…  
3… 2…1…"  
"Hey Miss Brighton!"  
"Good morning, good morning. Take your coats off and have a seat, everyone."  
It's amazing to watch all these kids running all over the place, seeing them so eager and full of life. I smile, in spite of myself.  
"Everyone, please. Take your seats so we can start for the day. Alright?"  
Everyone takes their seats, and sits facing the front of the class as quietly as mice.  
"Good morning, everyone."  
Everyone answers.  
"Good morning, Miss Brighton."  
She smiles at them. A voice comes over the P.A. System.  
"Good morning, everyone. Please stand for the National Anthem."  
The opening strains of the Star Spangled Banner begin, and as they do, the children all stand and face the flag in the corner, their little hands over their hearts. I hear no words from the speaker in the room, only music; but the children are singing along with their teacher. This is the best this country has to offer, right here in this room.  
"O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, what so proudly we hailed, at the twilight's last gleaming, whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, o'er the ramparts we watched, were so galantly streaming? And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was  
still there. O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave o'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?"  
I know what's coming next. With loud, clear, strong voices, they begin and I join them.  
"I Pledge Allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."  
"Thank you everyone, please take your seats."  
They do, and I can't believe how much that touched me. That was very moving.  
"Everyone, we have a special guest here this morning."  
She motions me to the front of the class.  
"Everyone, this is Mr. Seaborn. He works at the White House."  
I wave and smile at them.  
"Good morning, everyone."  
They all respond in the same manner.  
"Good morning, Mr. Seaborn."  
"Mr. Seaborn is going to talk to us this morning about what it's like to work at the White House. He's going to tell us anything he can about the things that go on there, and when he's finished, I'm sure he won't mind answering a few questions. Ok?"  
She smiles at me, and I smile back.  
"No problem."  
"Good. Remember to be on your best behavior. I want him to see what wonderful students you all are, ok?"  
They all smile and respond.  
"Yes, Miss Brighton."  
"Well, the floor's yours, Mr. Seaborn."  
She leaves me at the front of the class, walks to the back behind the fish tank, and I'm left standing here with a group of little Americans staring at me; waiting for me to say something to them.  
"Well, everyone. As Miss Brighton said, my name is Sam Seaborn. I went to Princeton and to Duke for my law degree. Now, I work at the White House. I'm the Deputy Communications Director. That means, that I help to write all the speeches that the President makes, and I help writing all the things that the Press Secretary, Miss Cregg says at her press meetings. I think what I'll do, if it's alright with Miss Brighton, is just answer questions from you. If that's ok."  
She smiles and nods her head.  
"That's perfectly cool with me, Mr. Seaborn. Class, when you have a question for Mr. Seaborn, please be sure to tell him your name when you ask your question, so he knows your name. OK?"  
They all nod, then their hands go shooting up in the air.  
"Woah! I didn't think you would all have so many questions! Ok. The young lady in the back row with the black curly hair."  
She stands up and begins to ask her question.  
"Hi Mr. Seaborn. My name is Shelley."  
"Hi Shelley. It's nice to meet you."  
"Thanks. I'd like to know if it's hard working at the White House."  
She sits in her seat, and eagerly waits for me to answer her question.  
"That's a very good question, Shelley. In any job you'll have, there are hard days and there are easy days. I have to get up really early in the morning because the President likes to meet with us just after he has breakfast, which is usually about 6:30. I meet with a lot of people during the day, different Senators, Congressmen and Congresswomen, different special interest groups, those kinds of things. I usually get home about 9 or 10 at night, unless it's been an extra hard day, and sometimes I just have a sleep on the couch in my office. It's a very rewarding job though, and I don't think I could be happier anywhere else."  
The hands shoot up again, and I point to another student.  
"The young man in the second row, wearing the blue shirt."  
He stands up.  
"Hi. My name is Jason, and I would like to know what the President's favorite part of his job is."  
"Well, that's a good question too. I think I know what the favorite part of his job is, but I'd have to ask him to find out."  
I reach into my briefcase, and pull out my cell phone, dialing a few numbers.  
"Mr. Seaborn, can you take another question?"  
"I will, as soon as I'm done answering this one."  
The phone clicks over to the Communications Department.  
"Hi, Ginger, this is Sam. Yup, things are going well. Listen, could you put me through to Charlie? I need to speak to him for a moment. Thanks."  
I hold my hand over the phone, and talk to the kids.  
"I'm gonna need you to do something for me. When I give you the thumbs up, I need you to say `Good Morning, Mr. President' really loud, ok?"  
They all giggle with excitement, and Jennifer is smiling from ear to ear. I speak to Charlie in that certain way, so he'll understand what I need.  
"Hey, Charlie. May I speak with him please? No, I'm still in Maryland, and I need to speak with him. I'm at P.S. 34, and I'm speaking to a group of very smart young ladies and gentlemen. They asked me a question about the President, and I didn't know the answer, so I need to ask him to get his answer. Ok."  
I look up to the kids.  
"He's putting me through. Hang on a minute."  
I smile at them, and they giggle again. As soon as I hear the phone click over, I make the `shhhh' noise, so they know that I'm speaking to him.  
"Good Morning, Sir. Yes, I'm well. You? Well, Sir. I have a group of very smart students here that asked me a question about you, and I didn't quite know the answer, so I needed to make sure that I got the answer right."  
I hold my phone out, giving them the thumbs up sign and they practically yell.  
"GOOD MORNING, MR. PRESIDENT!"  
He laughs a hearty laugh, and asks me who asked the question.  
"Well, Sir. The young man that asked the question is Jason. You would? I'll get him for you, Sir."  
I hold the phone away.  
"Jason, someone would like to talk to you."  
Jason gets out of his seat, walks to the front and takes the phone from my hand. The whole class is buzzing with excitement.  
"Hello."  
"Good morning, Jason."  
"Good Morning, Mr. President."  
"Now. Mr. Seaborn said that you had a question for me, and who better to ask than me, right?"  
"Yeah."  
"What can I do for you?"  
"Well, I just wanted to know what you liked best about your job?"  
"Well, I do like quite a lot of things about my job. But the thing that I like the most about it, is when I'm talking to people like you."  
He speaks very quickly.  
"Thank you, Mr. President."  
He hands me the phone, then runs back to his seat to the accolades of his classmates.  
"Yes, Sir. I think so too, Sir. I'll be back in time for Staff this afternoon. Thank you again, Sir."  
I hang up the phone.  
"Well, what did he say was his favorite part of the job?"  
"He said that his favorite part was talking to kids like me."  
I smile and wink at Jennifer, whose face is just beaming for her students. That's the man I voted for.  
"I knew it would be. Next question."

TBC...

*************  
"Ok, everyone. It's gonna be recess soon, so let's all get to the back and get our coats on. Ok?"  
They all respond with enthusiasm and start to head to the back of the room.  
"Class, isn't there something you're forgetting?"  
They all respond and I smile.  
"Thank you, Mr. Seaborn."  
"You're very welcome, everyone."  
They all put their coats and outside shoes on, and line up at the door, waiting for the buzzer to sound. It does, and she talks to them as they leave.  
"Ok, guys. Have a good recess."  
They file out of the classroom, all buzzing with excitement. Once they leave, she looks up at me and smiles.  
"Thank you, Mr. Seaborn."  
"I thought I said earlier that my friends call me Sam."  
She lowers her head and smiles.  
"Ok. Thank you, Sam. You know, Jason's gonna be the most popular student in school for a long time. I can't thank you enough for that."  
"Well, you needn't thank me. You should thank the President."  
"Please do so for me, ok?"  
I smile.  
"Why don't you do it?"  
"Well, as much as I would love the opportunity to speak to him personally, I don't think he'd want to speak to me."  
"And why not?"  
"Well, for one, he's the President."  
"Yes, and you said you voted for him, didn't you?"  
She smiles.  
"Yes, I did. But I'm sure he has more important things to do than to speak to me."  
I smile resolutely at her as I close my briefcase.  
"You have an appointment on Friday at 2:15 p.m."  
She tilts her head to the side in a gesture of curiosity.  
"Oh really? For what?"  
I smile.  
"Well You will have a car ready for you at lunchtime, and it will drive you into D.C. Upon your arrival, you'll meet with the President at 2:15 on Friday, and you can thank him yourself."  
"I can't."  
"Jennifer, when the President says jump, you say `How high, Sir?'  
You can't back out of this, he's expecting you."  
"But my kids! They can't be here without a teacher."  
I walk to the intercom system and press the `page' button, and a voice comes over the speaker.  
"Yes, Miss Brighton."  
"It's not Miss Brighton, it's Sam Seaborn. The one that you said needed a Geography teacher, remember?"  
She laughs.  
"Of course. What can I do for you?"  
"Well, Jennifer isn't going to be here on Friday afternoon, and I need for you or for whomever, to arrange to have a supply teacher here for the duration of the day, starting at 11:00. Would you do that for me please?"  
"Well, I would love to, Sir. However I need to know where she will be so I can put it on the request form."  
I look over to Jennifer and see an excited smile slowly creep across her face.  
"Well, she's going to be meeting with the President."  
"The president of what?"  
"The United States."  
There's no sound coming from the other side of the speaker.  
"Hello? Are you still there?"  
"Yes."  
"Are you ok?"  
"Yes, Sir. I'm just fine. Just a little shocked, that's all."  
I look over at Jennifer.  
"Imagine how she feels."  
She smiles at me, her face turning a light shade of pink.  
"Mr. Seaborn, it would be my pleasure to arrange that for you."  
"Fantastic! Thank you so much."  
"You're welcome. Jennifer, you HAVE to come and see me at lunch."  
"After I'm done my thing, ok?"  
"You got it. See you later."  
With that, the voice on the opposite side of the speaker has ended, and I turn to Jennifer and smile.  
"See? I'm the magic man. I make things happen."  
She shakes her head at me.  
"You're too much, you know that?"  
"Yeah, well. What are you gonna do?"  
"Not much, apparently. So are you gonna be there on Friday?"  
"Yeah. Who do you think is coming to get you?"  
"I DO have a car, you know."  
"And so do I. It's a nice one, too."  
"I'm sure of it."  
"Seriously. I will be here to pick you up at 11:00 on Friday morning. Ok?"  
She lowers her head a little and places her hand on her hip.  
"There's no way I'm going to win this debate, is there?"  
I look up and think for a minute.  
"No. None whatsoever. I'll see you on Friday."  
"Ok. `Till Friday, then."  
She walks me to the door and she opens it for me. I put my briefcase down and turn abruptly when I get into the hall.  
"Oh, before I forget."  
"What?"  
I smile a bright smile at her.  
"Congratulations."  
"Congratulations for what?"  
"Well, I told you a couple of hours ago that I was interviewing for the best teacher in the State, right?"  
"Yeah."  
"Well, congratulations."  
She smiles and wraps her arms around me, giving me a joyful hug, which I completely return to her. Once I give her a gentle squeeze back, she gets tense; an embarrassed look creeps up on her face as she looks at me, our arms still locked around each other's. She lowers her head and speaks softly, her hands now resting gently on my shoulders.  
"I'm so sorry, Sam. I really shouldn't have done that. I just got so excited, and didn't know how to fully express my happiness."  
I smile at her, letting her know it was completely all right.  
"Relax, it's ok. I'm actually kinda glad you did, though. I wanted to give you one, `cause you seem like a hug kinda person, but I didn't want you to think that I was being… you know… forward."  
She smiles at me and gently places her hand on the side of my face,  
causing me to blush ever so slightly.

"I wouldn't ever think that you were being forward. The world needs people to hug each other, it loosens you up and releases your tensions."  
"That's very true."  
"Thanks. Not that I wouldn't love for you to stay, but I have class, and I heard you say you had a meeting with the President this afternoon. You'd better head back."  
"Yeah. I should."  
"Friday at 11:00?"  
"You got it. Should I wait for you at the office?"  
"Come on up. Just make sure you check in. They'll be expecting you."  
"I will."  
I pick up my briefcase and look at her with a smile.  
"Ok. Friday it is?"  
"I'll be waiting for you."  
"Ok then. I'll see you."  
She smiles, and nods her head.  
"Bye, Sam."  
"Bye."


	2. Chapter 2

**********  
"This is the North Entrance."  
"I kinda figured that, Sam."  
I smile at her as she continues.  
"Especially considering that the lawn on the opposite side is the most famous side, and that's the South side."  
I shake my head at her.  
"Maybe I really DO need to see a Geography teacher."  
She laughs right out loud.  
"I think you'll be ok."  
I hold the door open for her, and I check her in at the security desk, where Mike hands me a visitor's pass.  
"Here you go, Sam."  
"Thanks."  
I place it around her neck.  
"There. You're officially a visitor at the White House. How do you feel?"  
"A little nervous, in all honesty. I mean, what if I say something stupid?"  
"I'll laugh at you."  
"Sam!"  
"Seriously, don't worry about it. Ainsley, she's the Associate White House Council by the way, when she first met the President, she was drunk and dancing to `Blame It On The Bossa Nova' in her office in a bathrobe. Then the next time she met him, she went into Leo's closet to pee."  
"And the fact that she had to go to the washroom was a bad thing because?"  
"There's no toilet in Leo's closet."  
"Ahhh."  
She smiles, and I place my hand on her back, guiding her through the halls of the West Wing.  
"This is the Press Secretary's office."  
Just at that moment, C.J. comes bounding out of her office and we jump out of the way.  
"CAROL!"  
"Ya."  
"I need that report from the OEOB like, yesterday!"  
"It's on the way, C.J."  
She mumbles something about the lack of respect for her position, then heads back to her office.  
"And this is Josh's office."  
She looks up at me with a curious face.  
"He's the one that…"  
I nod my head.  
"Yeah."  
I knock on his office door, which is closed.  
"Yeah."  
I open the door and we walk in.  
"Hey, buddy. I just wanted to introduce you to Jennifer Brighton."  
He stands up from his chair, and walks towards us; his hand extended.  
"It's nice to meet you, Miss Brighton."  
"When I'm among adults, please call me Jennifer."  
Donna must have heard that.  
"Well, I guess you'll be hearing Miss Brighton a lot around here."  
"You're so fired."  
"Oh, get over yourself, Josh. Hi, I'm Donna. You must be Jennifer."  
"Hi. Nice to meet you."  
"Likewise. Listen, Sam. After the thing, I need you to look this over. It's a speech that dip-wad wanted to write himself for the convention, and it really sucks. Would you mind?"  
I smile.  
"Not at all. I'll let you know when we're done."  
She smiles at me.  
"Thanks. I appreciate it."  
"That's what I'm here for. See ya."  
"Take it easy, Sam."  
"DONNA!"  
We exit the Operations Bullpen, and head towards the Communications Bullpen.  
"To your left is my boss' office, Toby Ziegler."  
I peek inside.  
"He's not there, he must be in his meeting with Andy."  
I open the door to my office.  
"This is my office."  
She looks around at the art and the diplomas that are hanging on the walls.  
"It's a lovely office, Sam. You're very lucky."  
"Thanks. Let me take your coat."  
I take her coat and hang it on the back of the door.  
"Sam, I'm getting nervous."  
I walk towards her and take a gentle hold of her hand.  
"Nothing is going to go wrong. Just be yourself, ok?"  
She takes a deep breath.  
"Ok."  
I check my watch and smile.  
"It's about time. Let's go."

"He's ready for you, Sam."  
"Thanks, Charlie."  
"Good luck, Miss."  
"Thanks, and it's Jennifer."  
He smiles at her, and we enter the Oval Office.  
"Sam! It's about time. I was beginning to think that you were going to bail on me."  
"I wouldn't do that, Sir. Please allow me to introduce Miss Jennifer Brighton, from P.S. 34 in Baltimore. Jennifer, President Bartlet."  
"It's a pleasure to meet you. May I call you Jennifer, or would you prefer Miss Brighton?"  
"Whichever you prefer, Mr. President. And believe me; the pleasure's all mine."  
They exchange smiles and handshakes.  
"Thank you. Please, have a seat."  
"Thank you, Sir."  
We sit on the couch, and the President sits in his chair.  
"Now, Jennifer. I've been reading the file that Sam gave me about your career."  
"Yes, Sir."  
"Is it true that you went to Notre Dame?"  
"Yes, Sir."  
"Well, that does it."  
She looks at me, mortified. I smile back.  
"Did you think it was a bad thing that you went there?"  
She answers with uncertainty.  
"Well, I'm not quite sure how to respond to that, Sir."  
He smiles at her and lets out a little chuckle.  
"I'm a Notre Dame man, myself. I was thinking about becoming a Priest, did you know that?"  
She smiles.  
"I can assure you I did not, Sir. If I may, what made you change your mind?"  
"Abbey."  
We all smile, and I can sense that the tension in the room has been lifted dramatically.  
"Yes, Sir. I went to Notre Dame for my undergrad, then I was accepted into Stanford for my Masters in English Literature. I went from there to teachers college, and in retrospect, I guess I don't really even know why I went for my Masters. I guess so I could have initials after my name."  
He smiles.  
"I understand. How long have you been teaching?"  
"At the end of this year, I will have been teaching for 9 years, Mr. President."  
"Any shining moments?"  
"Could you be a little more specific, because there are many."  
"The moment that you were the most proud."  
She tilts her head to the side, thinks for a moment, then smiles.  
"That would definitely have to be Jeremy."  
"Tell us about that."  
She begins to speak, and we are both listening intently to what she has to say.  
"Jeremy was, and in some respects is still, a very shy young man. He's had a lot of problems at home, his parents split when he was quite young, and sadly, his mother doesn't have anything to do with him. She's missed out on spending time with a fantastic kid."  
She sighs, and I can't help but get the sense that she truly does love her students.  
"Anyway, I had a suspicion that there was a special reason why Jeremy would never raise his hand in class, volunteer to do work at the blackboard, things of that nature. Well, about three short months ago, Jeremy came up to me after school one day…"

"Miss Brighton?"  
"Yes, Jeremy. What can I do for you?"  
"I… I… I… I can't read too good."

"Well, of course I had known this, but I couldn't very well approach him with it. I needed for him to come to me; that's the first step."

"Well, Jeremy. I'm very glad that you trust me enough to tell me that. Would you like me to teach you how?"  
"For real? Oh thank you, Miss. I've wanted to learn how for so long."  
"Well, I'd be happy to teach you. We can start tomorrow; after school?"  
"Would lunchtime be ok, `cause I have to go straight home after school and do my chores for my Dad."  
I smile.  
"I think that would be just fine. We'll have our lunches, then meet here for a bit. Then you can go and play with your friends for a while before class starts up again, ok?"  
"Thanks, Miss B."

"Then he came over and gave me a big hug, then realized what he had just done and got all shy."

"It's ok, sweetie. I hug people when I'm really happy and excited,  
too."

"We met every day at lunchtime, working on very basic books. You know, "See Spot Run", those kinds of books. Well, two weeks ago, in Social Studies class, we were, and still are for that matter, learning about the Constitution. Well, I had typed out a few things, a couple of the different passages, as well as the Preamble. I asked for a volunteer to read one of the sheets I had handed out, and I can't tell you the pride I felt when Jeremy raised his hand to volunteer to read. This boy, that had really just learned how to read properly, stumbling a little bit, read the reamble to the Constitution. I was so excited that I started to cry. He thought he had done a bad job, but, of course, it was because I was so proud of him. That, to date, has to be my proudest moment as a teacher. To be able to give kids the tools they need to succeed in life is worth more than all the gold at Fort Knox."  
So THAT was the thing she was talking about that day, the thing she had to do at lunch was helping him with his reading.  
"I'm amazed. It's a wonderful thing that you're doing, and I hope you continue doing it."  
"I wouldn't be anywhere else, Sir. It's the best job anyone could have."  
He looks over at her, and then she smiles.  
"The exception would be, of course, working for you."  
He smiles and laughs.  
"I have no need of brown nosing, Jennifer. I agree with you anyway. Education is something that is so vital to the upkeep and betterment of our society. Don't you agree?"  
"I certainly do, Mr. President. That's why I became a teacher. To be able to, in some small way, shape and mold the minds of perhaps a future President. To be able to get them to learn that education IS important. I mean, they may not yet see the importance of learning their times tables, or where they're ever going to use long division. But it teaches them that sometimes you just need to do what you have to do, in order to get the job done. It's more a matter of discipline than anything else. An athlete doesn't go headfirst into a marathon. They train, they condition, they prepare themselves. I see life as a never-ending race. You have to train when you're young, you run the race as long and hard as you can, then you celebrate the journey at the finish line."  
"That was beautiful."  
She turns to look at me.  
"Thanks, Sam."  
The President looks at her with a glimmer in his eye.  
"Are you sure you don't want to come and work for me? I'll give you Sam's job."  
She laughs.  
"As much as I would relish the opportunity, my first priority is to my kids, Sir."  
"Well, I've heard just about all I need to hear."  
He stands up and extends his hand to her, which she grasps with strength.  
"Congratulations, Miss Brighton. I know you'll represent your State well."  
She's beaming.  
"Thank you, Mr. President. I hope I'll be able to live up to your expectations of me."  
"If Sam has anything to do with it, I'm sure you will. Now, I have my afternoon Security briefing. If you'll both excuse me."  
"Certainly, Sir."  
"Thank you, Mr. President."  
"Thank you very much, Mr. President."  
"Congratulations again. We'll see you in two weeks."  
With that, I shut the door behind us, and we head towards my office. I turn towards her and grin.  
"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?"  
She smiles.  
"You see him every day, Sam. I was so nervous I could've peed my pants."  
I point down the hall and smile.  
"The ladies room is just down that hall, first door on the left."  
She gets a devious grin on her face.  
"Can't I just go in Leo's closet?"  
"Well, Leo's office is just around the corner. Knock yourself out."  
"I think I'll just use the Ladies room, if it's ok with you."

"I can't remember when I've had a more wonderful day, Sam. Thank you so much for all of this."  
"Well it's my pleasure. I just wish I could have been able to spend more time with you. It's just that, you know, with the thing going on and all…"  
She nods her head in a gentle manner.  
"Sam, don't worry. I completely understand. When I'm at work, that takes over my life, and I understand why yours does the same, except on a much larger scale."  
I smile, then look at my watch.  
"What time is it anyway, Sam?"  
"It's about 7:00. Are you about ready to head home?"  
"Don't worry about it. I'll just get a bus or something. I'm sure there's a bus that'll get me to the station in Baltimore, and I can cab it from there."  
"I won't hear of it. I brought you here, and I can drive you home. Don't worry."  
"Sam…"  
"Jennifer…"  
She shakes her head and laughs.  
"You know that the National Weather Service said there were severe thunderstorm watches for Baltimore and the surrounding area, right?"  
I brush that comment off.  
"Yeah, but the NWS is never accurate. Besides, I'm sure that if they actually DO happen, they'll be much later at night. Any other obstacles you wish to throw in my path of common courtesy?"  
"Smart ass."  
"Jennifer! Would you talk to your students like that?"  
"People close to my age and that stand relatively close to my height; yes. My students; no."  
"Alright. Get your coat, Miss Sarcasm."

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

********************  
"It's the first building on the left, Sam. Just be careful, because there's a pretty sharp turn coming up."  
It has gotten noticeably darker since we left Washington, and damn my intuition, the NWS was right. The rain is coming down like cats and dogs, and the lightning strikes every twenty seconds or so. I pull into the visitor's space that is closest to the main door, and idle the engine. Jennifer looks at me with a curious face.  
"Are you ready?"  
"Yup. I'll see you in a few days."  
"What are you talking about?"  
"What are YOU talking about?"  
"Well, aren't you coming in?"  
"I didn't know I was invited."  
She laughs at me, and puts her hand on my arm.  
"Sam, you can't honestly believe that I'd let you drive all the way back to Washington in this weather, do you? Get serious."  
"I didn't bring a change of…"  
"Don't worry about that. I've got a neighbor about your height, and I'm sure he won't mind loaning me a pair of sweats. Ok?"  
"Only if you're sure."  
"I'm only sure that if you drive home in this weather, that I'll be sick with worry all night long. Now turn off the engine, and come inside, ok? I'll make some coffee for us."  
I smile.  
"Ok."

"This is really a beautiful place you have here."  
"Thanks. Make yourself at home. I'm just gonna go next door and check on those sweats for you, ok?"  
"Ok."  
She leaves the apartment, and I begin looking around at my new surroundings. Everything is perfectly placed. The artwork hung on the walls reminds me of home. Well, when I lived in New York. She has a photo of the Statue of Liberty during a Fourth of July celebration hanging on her wall. I can't help but sigh, because deep down, I do miss the Big Apple. I walk slowly around the Living Room, taking in all the sights to see. The front door opens.  
"Hey, Sam. I hope you don't have any objections to UCLA."  
I smile.  
"Absolutely not. I love UCLA."  
"Good. Here you go. If you'd like to change, the spare room is just down the hall on the right. Coffee?"  
"Sounds great. I'll be out in a minute."  
I head down the hall and open the door to the spare room. I'm greeted by walls that have newspaper clippings mounted in frames. Hmm. I wonder what these are about? I walk over to them and am pleasantly surprised by what I see.  
"Bartlet's America!"  
Wow. She really is a staunch Democrat. What does this one say?  
"Town Hall Meeting Goes Chaotic."  
I know what that's from. I know what each of these articles are going to say, so I don't bother reading them. It's just gonna bring back memories for me that I'm not sure if I'm all that ready to face. I quickly change into the sweats that have been loaned to me, and head back out towards the Living Room. The music is playing, the same CD that was playing in her classroom when I visited her earlier this week.  
"Hey. Coffee's almost ready."  
"Ok. Whenever, I'm in no rush."  
She smiles.  
"Ok. I'm just gonna go change. Take a load off."  
She returns a few minutes later, wearing her Notre Dame sweats.  
"The President would be proud of that."  
She smiles.  
"Well, that's my main goal in life."  
"Sarcasm?"  
"In part. They were the most comfortable pair I could find. Let's get you some coffee."

About forty minutes later, we're sitting side by side on the couch in the Living Room, drinking our coffee and watching the rain come down.  
"You know, Sam. This is probably going to sound quite silly, but I don't think I've ever enjoyed myself more than I am right now."  
"How so?"  
"This is all so peaceful and serene. Just sitting here watching the rain falling down, making that special sound as it hits the windows; seeing the flashes of lightning go through the sky, lighting it up brighter than a Fourth of July celebration. It's just really something."  
"Yeah. I agree with you. With my job, I don't really get to sit down and relax all that much. This is a really nice thing to…"  
I can't finish that sentence, because the sound of her scream had terrified me. It's probably because the power went off so suddenly; at the exact moment that huge clap of thunder ripped through the streets of downtown Baltimore. She puts a hand to her chest, trying to regain her composure.  
"I'm sorry about that, Sam. I just wasn't really expecting that to happen."  
I smile, but I'm sure she can't see that.  
"It's ok. I wasn't really expecting it either."  
"Well, I'd better get out the candles. I'll be right back."  
She heads down the hall and returns a moment later; a large storage box in her hands.  
"I know it's big, but it's my emergency kit. Everything you'd ever need is in here. From blankets, to bottles of water, to candles, crackers and juice boxes."  
"You sound totally prepared."  
"Hey. It's the way to be."  
She puts the very large box down on the floor and opens the lid, taking out a couple of packages of candles that were on the top, as well as the long stick matches. I get off the couch, and help her place the candles around the apartment, lighting them as we both go. Before we know it, her place is lit up spectacularly, and there is a beautiful glow surrounding us.  
"Wow. It looks beautiful in here."  
She looks around for a few moments.  
"Yes, it does, doesn't it?"  
I hold out my hand to her and she takes it, walking towards me.  
"Hi."  
"Hi."  
"How you doin'?"  
"Good, good. You?"  
"Good."  
We look at each other for an awkward moment, and I bring my hand up to her face, running my finger along her jaw line. She smiles and lowers her head.  
"Sam…"  
"What's wrong?"  
"Nothing. It's just that…"  
"Jennifer, don't finish that thought, ok?"  
I lift her chin up and bring my lips to hers, kissing her very gently. She lets out a sigh, and I open my eyes as I pull away from her.  
"What's the matter?"  
"Nothing."  
She smiles at me, and I lean towards her for another kiss. This is a gentle one, but just as I start to give her a deeper kiss, she puts her hands on my chest and pushes me away.  
"Jennifer, what's wrong?"  
"If this is going where I think it might be going, I can't…I can't…"  
"You can't what?"  
She shakes her head and looks away from me, my arm still wrapped around her waist.  
"I can't tell you that. You'll laugh at me."  
"I guarantee you I won't. You can trust me."  
"I know I can trust you, but I just don't think you'll believe me."  
"I won't believe what?"  
She lowers her head and takes a deep breath.  
"I've had boyfriends before, Sam."  
"I kinda figured that, you know."  
"Sam, this is hard enough for me to talk about right now. Please don't joke."  
I can tell this is something that is hard for her to talk about, so I nod my head.  
"Ok. I'm sorry. Please go on."  
I take her hand and lead her to the couch, where we sit facing each other, my arm wrapped around her shoulder in a comforting manner.  
"I was a bookworm in school. I would read anything and everything I could get my hands on, and for that matter, I'm still the same way. I studied so hard, because I knew that I wanted to be the best; to have the best grades, the best job, the best salary. I didn't date anyone seriously until I was 22. He was a nice guy, as far as  
college frat boys go, I suppose. Well, one night he wanted to, you know, fool around, and I told him that I wasn't ready. The next day the rumor went around that he had dumped me, so I knew that was the end of that. It was a good thing, anyway, because I found out from a couple of girlfriends that he had done some pretty serious drugs, using needles, that kind of thing."  
"Oh my god. I'm so sorry about that."  
She smiles.  
"Well, I didn't sleep with him, so I'm fine in that respect. It's just that…"  
She stops, trying to find the words to say.  
"It's ok, you can tell me."  
She looks up at me, and I smile at her. She smiles back.  
"I graduated in the top one percent of my class from every school that I went to. I didn't have time to date because I was so caught up in my studies. Then when I graduated from Teacher's College, I was so focused on my kids, that I think I actually repelled people from me. I just got so involved with my work that I totally was lacking in any form of a social life. I get up, go to work, stay there until 5 or 6 at night, come home, prepare my lesson plans for the next day. I cook or usually order something to eat at about 8, then I go to bed and start all over again. I haven't been on a date in years, and to be quite honest, I forget what it's like to be around a decent man in a social situation."  
I smile. I think I know what's coming.  
"So what is it that's so bad about that? I don't even think I can remember what dating is supposed to be about, either."  
"Sam, it's more than that. I haven't…"  
She looks at me with pleading eyes.  
"You haven't what?"  
"I haven't… you know."  
I think I know, but I want to hear her say it.  
"I don't. You haven't what?"  
"I've never…you know. Been with a man."  
"Oh. So what's the big terrible secret that you needed to tell me?"  
She looks mortified by my last statement. Oh god, I did bad.  
"Sam! That IS my big secret. How many women do you know that are almost 34 years old and can swear on the Bible that they've never had sex?"  
"Truthfully, not many."  
"See? That makes me a freak; a frigid monster that no one would ever want to be with. But it's not the case. I'm just not ready for, you know. THAT."  
I smile at her, and run my fingers along the side of her face.  
"Jennifer. I don't want you to think that I would pressure you into something that you weren't ready for. I should hope you could tell that about me."  
She lowers her head a little.  
"Yeah. I just thought that…"  
I smile and bring on the sarcastic voice.  
"See? There you go thinking again. Stop doing that, ok?"  
She smiles.  
"Sam "  
"Seriously. I think that's a very special thing, and I don't think you should be ashamed of it at all. The man that you are with for the first time should see it as an honor, and know that you chose him for that purpose. I would never force you to do something that you didn't feel comfortable doing, I seriously hope you believe that."  
She smiles, and closes her eyes; her head leaning towards my touch.  
"I do, Sam. I'm not saying that I wouldn't ever want to, and I don't even necessarily want to wait until, if ever, I get married. I just want it to be with the right person; someone that I know will treat me right. I don't want to rush into something without assessing the situation completely. I always tell that to my kids, and I don't  
want to be a hypocrite."  
I can't help but smile with a little chuckle.  
"Jennifer, there are things that go on between adults that your kids don't have to know about, you know."  
"I know, Sam. But I WOULD know about it, and I would have to live with myself; knowing that I was teaching my kids one thing while living something completely different. It's a morality issue for me."  
I lean forward and kiss her on the forehead.  
"And I totally respect that. If and when you're ready, and if I'm lucky enough for it to be me, all you have to do is tell me. I won't ever pressure you into something you aren't ready for. Ok?"  
She smiles.  
"I think I can pretty much guarantee that it will be you, and I'll let you know. You can bank on that one."  
"Good."  
We sit there for a few moments, just looking at each other and enjoying each other's company.  
"What time is it, Sam?"  
I look at my watch.  
"It's about 1:30. Why?"  
"We should go to bed. You have a long drive in the morning."  
"Ok. Where will I be?"  
"Well, you could stay in the spare room if you like, or you could stay in my room. Whichever you prefer."  
"Where will you be?"  
"In either scenario, in my room."  
I waggle my eyebrows.  
"Oh really? Then I'm taking the second option."  
I laugh as she swats me across the shoulder.  
"You are welcome to stay in my room, as long as you know that…"  
"Jennifer, I know. It would be great just to hold you as we fall  
asleep. We don't have to do anything."  
"So you mean we can sleep together?"  
"Yes, as in actual sleeping. Rapid Eye Movement."  
"Ok. That sounds like a good idea to me."  
We stand up from the couch, blow the candles out in the joining rooms, then head to her bedroom. I blow out the candles in the room, and she heads to the bed; turning down the blankets for us. I slowly walk over to the bed, and climb in. I lay down on my side, facing her, and hold my arm out for her.  
"You don't have to be so far away, you know."  
I can see a smile in the darkness, and she inches her way towards me, resting her head on my shoulder. I take her hand and place a gentle kiss on it, before resting it on my chest. I speak quietly to her.  
"Good night, Jennifer."  
"Good night, Sam. Thanks for, you know. Understanding."  
"No thanks are needed, and I completely understand. Sweet dreams."  
I kiss her on the forehead, and she snuggles up to me even more.  
"You too, Sam. You too."

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

*********************  
The next two days practically flew by. It's strange, you know. I think that he's a really sweet guy, but I know that he's giving me my space right now. To be honest, I'm kinda glad. It'll give me a chance to assess the situation that I've found myself faced with.  
"Ok, everyone. Please take out your workbooks. We're going to write for a few minutes in our journals."  
Jeremy's hand goes up.  
"Miss Brighton?"  
"Yes, Jeremy."  
"There's someone outside the door. I can see his face through the window."  
I turn and look through the little glass window in the door, and sure enough, there's a man standing outside the door.  
"Thanks. Class, please continue writing in your journals. I'll be right back."  
I walk towards the door, turn the handle and open it. I walk out to the hall, leaving the door slightly ajar.  
"May I help you?"  
"Yes. Are you Jennifer Brighton?"  
"Yes. How may I help you?"  
"I have a delivery for you, Miss."  
He holds out a sheet of paper and a pen.  
"Please sign here."  
"Ok."  
I sign my name on the sheet of paper, and the man walks towards the staircase. When he returns, he is carrying a long white box, with a red ribbon wrapped around it. I'm amazed, and I can feel a blush creep up on my cheeks.  
"What is all this?"  
"I'm just the messenger, Miss. Have a nice day."  
He hands me the box, and smiles.  
"Thank you. I will. You too, Sir."  
He tips his cap at me, then heads down the stairs. I'm left out here with this box in my hands, not really knowing what to do with it. I head back into the class and as soon as I enter, I have the class' complete attention. I lay the box down on my desk.  
"I thought we were supposed to be writing in our journals, class."  
Shelley speaks with excitement.  
"Open it, Miss!"  
Everyone joins in with a chorus of encouraging words. I smile, shake my head, and sit on the front of my desk, with the big white box in front of me.  
"Is it your birthday, Miss Brighton?"  
I smile.  
"No, Steven. It isn't my birthday. But it's someone's birthday soon, isn't it?"  
Everyone turns to look at Shelley as she points to herself.  
"Yup. I'm gonna be 9 in 8 days."  
I smile at her.  
"You're practically a lady."  
She giggles, and I resume opening my box. I unfold the tissue paper, and gasp at what I see.  
"What is it, Miss B?"  
I lift the box towards my face and smell the beautiful fragrance that is coming from inside.  
"Someone sent me flowers, class."  
Shelley leans over to her friend and whispers.  
"Shelley. You know that there is no whispering in class. If you'd like to speak to us, you have to share for the entire class. What was it you said to Linda?"  
"I said that I think I know who sent them."  
"Oh really. And just who might that be?"  
She smiles.  
"Mr. Seaborn."  
Everyone giggles.  
"Really, Shelley. Why would he send me flowers?"  
"Because he likes you."  
The class starts up in a very familiar song.  
"Miss Brighton and Mr. Seaborn, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G."  
I shoot them a look that lets them know I'm not impressed.  
"Class, that's enough. Shelley, how would you know this?"  
"I can tell. My mom says I'm intuit… intuit… smart for my age."  
"I think the word you were looking for was intuitive."  
She smiles and nods.  
"Yeah. That's the word she uses."  
I look in the box for a card, and sure enough, there is one. I leave it inside, and stand up from my desk.  
"Class, now that we know what is inside the box, please. Let's continue with our writing, alright?"  
They all answer.  
"Yes, Miss Brighton."  
As they resume their earlier activities, I take the card out of the box and open it as I sit on my chair at my desk. I unfold it, and there's a letter inside. Gee. I wonder who this is from…  
"Dear Jennifer. I just wanted to tell you how incredibly happy and lucky I was to have met you last week. Your smile and genuine goodness are like a breath of fresh air. Your concern for others is so refreshing, it's just so nice to be around you. I loved falling asleep beside you, and waking up with my arms wrapped around you. It was the most comforting feeling I've ever experienced. I want to remind you that you have nothing to fear when it comes to me. Whenever- just say the word. I also wanted to let you know that Donna, Josh's assistant, Josh and I are planning on having dinner at my place on Wednesday night, and I was hoping you would do me the honor of joining us. I can come get you if transportation is a  
problem, so you don't need to worry about that. I'd just… I'd just… I'd really like to see you again. You know where to reach me. Love, Sam."

"Ginger, can you get me that thing?"  
"Sure. Give me a minute or so."  
"No problem. Thanks."  
My phone rings.  
"Sam Seaborn."  
"Hi."  
"Hi."  
"How are you?"  
"Good. Good. How you doin'?"  
"Good. I'd love to."  
"Oh, Jennifer. I'm so pleased. Do you want me to come and get you?"  
"First of all, what are you doing at work so late? I didn't think you'd be there still, I was expecting your voice mail."  
"Well, I have to get this draft written up so the President can look it over in the morning. That's why I'm here."  
"Sam, Toby needs you."  
I hold the phone away from my mouth.  
"Can you tell him I'm on a very important call and I'll be there as soon as I can?"  
She smiles at me.  
"You got it."  
I wink at her.  
"Thanks, Ginger."  
I return the phone to where it was before my interruption.  
"A very important phone call, huh?"  
"Well, you are very important to me, so that makes this a very important phone call."  
"Sam, you work at the White House. Nothing could be more important than that."  
"You are."  
I can feel the blush that is on her face right now.  
"Sam. Go do what you have to do. Call me when you get home, ok?"  
I smile.  
"I will. It might be really late though. Like 1:30 or something like that."  
"That's ok. I'll wait up."  
"Ok. I hate to have do this, you know, but…"  
"Sam. Go talk to whoever you need to. I'll talk to you later tonight, ok?"  
"Ok. Bye, Jennifer."  
"Bye, Sam."

A groggy voice greets me.  
"Hello."  
"I'm so sorry, Jennifer."  
"No, it's ok. I told you to call. What time is it anyway?"  
"2:45."  
"Oh god. I'm so tired."  
"I knew I shouldn't have called so late. I'm sorry, I'll let you get back to sleep."  
"No, it's ok. Besides, I told you to call."  
"Only if you're sure."  
"I'm sure. I'm up now, anyway."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Don't be, ok? I'm gonna make some coffee. You want some?"  
"I could be there in 45 minutes."  
She laughs.  
"Don't be ridiculous. You need some sleep."  
"Yeah, but I'd like to see you."  
"Well, you'll get to see me on Wednesday. What time are you getting together for dinner?"  
"Probably about 8:00. Barring any emergencies, of course."  
"That's understandable. Do you want me to bring anything?"  
"Just you."  
"Sam…"  
"Seriously. We're probably gonna order Chinese or something like that. It's not a State Dinner, Jennifer."  
She laughs.  
"Ok. So just me, huh?"  
"Yup. That's all I need."  
"Thank you, by the way, for the beautiful flowers."  
"You DID get them. I was wondering about that today."  
"Yes, and you had them delivered right in the middle of writing time. I had no control over my class for the twenty minutes that the delivery guy was there until I opened the box."  
I smile.  
"Yeah. I'm sorry about that."  
"No you're not, Sam. Don't lie."  
"Ok. I'm not. I just wanted to send you something, and I didn't really know what to get you. I thought that they would be the most appropriate thing."  
"Well, they certainly were beautiful. They're sitting on my dining room table as we speak."  
"In that vase that was in the cabinet?"  
"Yes, actually. That was my mother's. Did I tell you that?"  
"I think you might have."  
"Yeah. They're in there and just make the place smell so beautiful. Thank you again."  
"Well, you're very welcome. Beautiful flowers are meant to be given to beautiful ladies."  
"Sam…"  
I can feel the blush again.  
"What? It's true."  
"Seriously. Don't make yourself all teen-ager like."  
"Teen-ager like? What is that?"  
"You know. Trying to win the girl, saying stuff like beautifulflowers for a beautiful lady."  
"Well, it's 2:30 in the morning. What do you want from me?"  
"Well…"  
"I'll be there in twenty minutes."  
"Easy there, tiger. I was going to say that I would like for you to let me bring something on Wednesday."  
Damn. I thought…  
"Ok. What would you like to bring?"  
"I make a kick ass chocolate cheesecake. I can bring that."  
Oh my god. Chocolate cheesecake. I adore this woman.  
"I love cheesecake. I've changed my mind now. If you don't bring that, I'll have to figure out some sort of retribution."  
She laughs.  
"Well, I'll bring that for desert, then. Do you need me to pick up anything else? Wine? Beer?"  
"I've got everything taken care of, Jennifer. Just you and the cheesecake are all I need."  
"Ok then. I'll go shopping tomorrow."  
I start to yawn.  
"Ok."  
"Sam, I'm gonna let you go, because you sound about ready to drop."  
"Yeah, I am a little tired."  
"I knew it. Go to sleep. Call me tomorrow."  
"But Jennifer, it IS tomorrow."  
"I meant Wednesday, silly."  
"Ok. Good night, Jennifer."  
"Good night, Sam."

I'm sitting in my office, reading over a file. God, it's been a long day. I mean, with the speech last night and waiting up for the numbers, it's been just crazy around here. I think it's a good idea that we're getting together for dinner tonight. It'll be a good way to unwind. There's a knock at my door.  
"Come in."  
"Hey, buddy. When's dinner?"  
"As soon as I get this letter finished, which shouldn't be too long. Why, are you hungry?"  
"Slightly."  
"Hey, you know that Jennifer's coming, right?"  
"Who?"  
"You remember her. She was here last week."  
"Oh, I think I remember her. The teacher?"  
I smile and nod my head.  
"Yeah. She's meeting me here at about 7:00."  
My phone rings.  
"Sam Seaborn."  
"Sam, where should I park, `cause the guards won't let me in, seeing as I don't have an appointment."  
I glance at my watch and realize that the day has just flown by, and it's quarter to seven.  
"Drive up to the gate. I'll call down and tell them to let you in."  
"Ok. North Entrance?"  
"Sounds good. I'll see you there in a few minutes."  
"Ok. Bye."  
I hang up my phone and stand up from my chair, putting on my jacket as I go. I motion to Josh.  
"Come on."  
"Um, Sam. You'd better call the gate."  
"Oh yeah."

We're sitting in my Living Room, munching on the delicious cheesecake that Jennifer brought. Donna looks like she's about to roll over in ecstasy from the chocolate she's eating, and I'm not far behind her on that one.  
"This is just sooooooooooo good, Jennifer. I didn't know that such delicious-ness existed."  
"Thank you, Donna. It's one of my favorite things to make. I love chocolate, don't you?"  
Donna closes her eyes and lets out a little moan, which I think Josh is trying desperately to ignore. He turns to Jennifer, fork in hand, and speaks to her.  
"So, have you decided what you're going to sing at the thing?"  
She looks at him with eyes as big as saucers. I kick him under the table, and Donna gives him an elbow in the side, causing him to drop his cheesecake laden fork on the floor.  
"What did you say?"  
"Josh, you're such an idiot. The President wanted to ask her tonight, and now you've gone and spoiled it for him. I'm so glad I'm not you right now."  
"I'm sorry, I was just making conversation."  
"Umm… I don't know if you two idiots are aware of this, but Jennifer looks like she's going to faint."  
I stand up and immediately head to Jennifer's side, handing her a glass of water.  
"Hey. It's ok. You're going to be fine."  
She shakes her head a little, and resumes her normal posture.  
"I'm sorry. It's just that I thought I heard you ask me what I was going to sing at the thing."  
Donna and I look at Josh with icy stares, and he just sits there and shrugs his shoulders.  
"I'm sorry."  
I turn to Jennifer and place a hand on her arm.  
"Jennifer. When the President calls you tonight, please make sure you act surprised when he asks you, ok?"  
"He's going to call me? He doesn't have my number."  
I smile.  
"Well, he does. It was in your file."  
"What file?"  
"Well, there are many. Your FBI files, listed on your tax forms, but I'm assuming he got it from me."  
She turns and looks at me with a sarcastic look on her face.  
"Really?"  
"Yeah. He wanted to have some music during the thing, and so I suggested you."  
"But Sam, how do you know that I can sing?"  
"I was there when you all sang the National Anthem, Jen, and I can't recall a time that I was more moved than that. It was just beautiful; you with the kids, singing your hearts out. It was amazing."  
She lowers her head for a moment, then the outline of a smile slowly creeps across her face as she looks up at me.  
"Here's an idea. Can I bring my kids with me? It could be a field trip for them, and they'd get such a kick out of it. It would definitely be something they could tell their families about for years to come; that they got to sing for the President. Do you think he would let me?"  
We all smile at her.  
"He'd love that. You have something in mind?"  
She smiles.  
"I do. But I have to get permission from the kids' parents first."  
"I'm sure whatever you have planned will be perfect."  
Josh looks at his watch.  
"Well, my little sidekick, we should be going home. We've got a long day tomorrow."  
"I'm gonna ignore the sidekick comment. For now, anyway. It was so good to see you again, Jennifer."  
"You too, Donna. You're both gonna be at the dinner, right?"  
Josh responds in a typical way.  
"Free food? Absolutely!"  
We all share a laugh as Jennifer and I see them to the door, giving them each a hug good bye. I close the door behind them, and we head to the Living Room. She looks up at me and smiles.  
"Well, who's gonna take care of what?"  
"I can do the dishes, if you can help me clear this stuff up."  
She smiles at me.  
"Sounds fair. Then I should get going."  
"Why?"  
"Well, it's a school day tomorrow."  
"Yeah, and I have a breakfast meeting with the President. Your point would be?"  
"It's a long drive, and…"  
"45 minutes. An hour, tops. I'll set the alarm for 5:30, and we can be on our merry little ways by 6. Sound ok to you?"  
She smiles.  
"Yeah. It sounds perfect. You have some sweats for me to borrow?"  
"Boxers and a T-shirt?"  
"Sounds totally comfy."  
We finish cleaning up the mess in the room, and we head to my bedroom. I sort through my drawers and I actually find a pair of old pyjamas for her to wear.  
"Hey Jen. What about these?"  
I hold them up for her, and she laughs.  
"Sam, Sam, Sam. Cowboys?"  
Oh yeah. I forgot about these. These were the ones that Josh gave me for my birthday last year, and I had vowed to never take them out of the cupboard.  
"Well, I still have the boxers if you'd like."  
"That might be a little better. I don't do cowboys."  
"Oh really? What about lawyers who write speeches for the President?"  
She smirks.  
"We'll see. How about we call a truce. I'll wear the shirt, if you'll wear the pants?"  
"Works for me. I swear, these things are so awful. I don't know why Josh ever gave these to me."  
"Probably because he realizes you're a cowboy at heart, and that you can't ever be tamed."  
"I can, I know I can. It's just that…"  
She falls back on the bed, hysterical with laughter.  
"Sam, get over it. I'm just teasing you. I think these PJ's are adorable."  
"Oh. Ok. You want boxers?"  
"Please."  
She's still giggling a little to herself, but I choose to let it pass. I turn to look at her.  
"Well, are you ready?"  
"Yeah. I think so. You want me to get the light?"  
"I'll get it. You lay down."  
"Ok."  
I turn the overhead light off in the room, leaving the lamp on the bedside table on. I walk over to my bed, sit down and swing my feet up, wrapping them in the blankets. She turns to me and smiles.  
"Hi."  
"Hi yourself."  
"Let's get to sleep, ok?"  
I reach for the lamp and turn the switch.  
"Ok."  
She rolls towards me, leaning on her side. I extend my arm out so she'll get the message that she can cuddle up to me. She does.  
"Good night, Jennifer."  
I can feel a faint smile grow across her lips. She breathes out a sigh.  
"Care to share?"  
"I don't know, Sam. Just something about this is so relaxing."  
"How so?"  
"Well, this is probably gonna sound incredibly stupid."  
"It's ok. Josh's said worse. I guarantee it."  
We laugh, and she places her hand across my waist, her head resting on my chest right over my heart.  
"It's just so soothing, to be able to listen to your heartbeat when I fall asleep. I know that has to sound silly, but it's true."  
"I don't think it's silly at all. I think it's nice."  
"Thanks, Sam."  
"You're welcome. You can listen to my heart beat any time you want."  
"Well, thanks for the offer. Good night, Sam."  
"Good night. Sweet dreams."  
I take her hand that's around my waist, bring it towards my mouth and place a kiss on the top of her hand. She lifts her head up towards my face, places a gentle kiss right under my chin; then returns her head to its' former position. She takes a deep breath in, as do I, and we both let out a long breath; releasing the tensions from the  
day. I close my eyes, and just as I'm about to fall asleep, I hear her whisper.  
"Soon, Sam. Very soon."  
I smile, and drift off to sleep.

I don't think there's any feeling in the world that's better than waking up with a man's arms wrapped around you; as though he doesn't ever want to let you go. I lay here and smile despite myself. I can't believe that just about a week ago, I was looking at a really sad and distant future, and now. Well, let's just say that I think  
Sam's a fantastic guy. I close my eyes, and draw his arms tighter around me. I can feel him inch closer to me, if it's possible, and I feel his lips gently touch my shoulder. I smile.  
"Good morning."  
"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"  
"I did, Sam. You?"  
"Yeah. I sure did."  
He kisses my shoulder again, and I move his arms from my waist so I can turn over and face him. I smile as he runs his finger along the side of my face.  
"Hi."  
"Hi."  
He brings me toward him, and we kiss. When I said that there's no better feeling in the world than having a man's arms wrapped around you when you wake up? I lied. This is a hell of a lot better. He places his hand behind my head and draws me closer to him, deepening his kiss. After a minute or two or twelve, we reluctantly pull away from each other. He smiles at me, and I return it.  
"Hi."  
"Hi."  
"What time is it, Sam?"  
"I don't know. The alarm hasn't gone off yet, so it can't be that late. Let me check."  
He turns his head to the side, and I hear him groan.  
"What is it, Sam?"  
He lands his head on the pillow with a thud, and he runs his fingers through his hair.  
"Oh God."  
"What?"  
The panic has started to overtake me.  
"I gotta make a call. I'll be right back."  
"Sam, what's wrong?"  
"I'll be right back."  
He swings his feet out of the bed and runs into the Living Room. I follow him with my eyes until he's out of sight, then my eyes turn to the clock on the bedside table.  
"HOLY SHIT! SAM SEABORN, I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

TBC...


End file.
